The Lost Knight
by Nine-Dead-Alps
Summary: After accidentally stumbling into Earth, Basch is desperate to get back to his quest of saving Dalmasca. With help from a local girl called Edie, he sets off in search of something that also shouldn't be in Earth, the Dawn Shard.


Author's Notes:

Hi there! I've been playing around with this idea for a couple of weeks now and decided to go ahead and write it as a quick cure for writer's block. Same rules apply to this Fanfiction that _'The Dog, The Girl and The Walk-in Closet'_ has. Ivalice isn't a 'game world' but instead another realm so that's why Edie has no idea who Basch is and also why he doesn't pop out of a Playstation or something!

This Fanfiction is completely seperate to my other one, it's no way related in any shape or form. It's just a nother way I can write Edie and Basch together seems as I'm enjoying doing it so much lately!

Disclaimer:

Okay, first thing's first, I take no credit for the overall idea of this plot as it was clearly taken from Fanfictions such as _'The Gang Goes to Earth, WHAT?_' by Hikari-Angel143 and_ 'From Ivalice to Earth'_ by Archadian Rose. I just really wanted to have a go at writing this style of Fanfic, also I'm moving from my little Spanish village back to England and at least this way I can still think about it from time to time.

I don't own Final Fantasy XII. I do own Edie, my OC.

* * *

**Chapter I**

A curse curled from my lips as I pushed the car onwards along the little dirt track. The damn thing protested all the while but chugged on nonetheless. It probably didn't help that the heavens had opened up and rain pelted down mercilessly upon the shabby car. The foul weather made visibility near impossible. I squinted past the windscreen at the darkened country road that snaked ahead of me. The rhythmic wipe of the windscreen wipers only revealed glimpses of the night before the flood of rain water masked the glass once more.

"Can't see fuck all." I muttered, easing up on the accelerator.

Even with the full beam on, the car's headlights failed to cut through the gloom. The stereo blasted out rock music and if I didn't have to concentrate so much I probably would have sung along. Then again I didn't really sing that much these days. Things had gone to shit lately. The sooner I got home and had a drink, the better.

The music was beginning to grate on me. As much as I loved the likes of Kings of Leon their noise was beginning to distract me from the task at hand. I fumbled for the volume button on the stereo. After a few moments of groping and being unable to locate it, I glanced down. I had only just returned my attention back to the road in time when something stumbled out of the side of the road and slap bang in my way.

"Shit!" I cried and slammed my foot down hard on the break, my heart jolting to my throat.

Despite my quick reaction it turned out it hadn't been sufficient enought to slow the car down. The slick mud of the track probably didn't help any as the wheels skidded along. In a flash whatever was in the road had been uprooted and slung over the bonnet and roof of my car. I desperately continued to regain control of the car and after long last it jerked to a stop. As a result of the harsh halt, my head bowed forward and nearly clashed with steering wheel. I daren't raise it. If I did it would mean I would have to face seeing whatever I'd just hit.

I stayed like this for a few long moments shakily attempting to draw breath. The whine of the car's engine still running mingled with the heavy patter of the rain and Kings of Leon were still rocking it out oblivious to what I had just done. I slowly raised my head and looked in the rear-view mirror. The soft red luminance of the car's tail lights picked out an unidentifiable heap sprawled out on the track a few feet behind the car.

"Shit." It came out as a soft sob.

With trembling fingers I fumbled to unbutton my seat belt before slowly opening the car door. I stepped out of the car, the heels of my stylish shoe-boots sinking into the soft, soggy dirt. The rain quickly drenched me, making my hair cling to my face in soggy tendrils. I slowly turned and squinted through the heavy down pour at the thing I'd hit. It confirmed my worst fears. It was a person. I had run someone over! Another sob escaped my lips as I ran over to the unmoving body with unsteady steps. I collapsed to my knees and gingerly laid a hand on their shoulder. It was a guy.

"Hey! Can you hear me?" I shouted over the roar of the rain, gently shaking him. "Come on, wake up!"

Panic rose in me in a flash. What if he was dead? My hand fluttered from his shoulder to his neck, searching for a pulse. A steady beat flickered against my finger tips. A wave of relief washed away some of my fear. Okay, so he wasn't dead but that wasn't a big improvement on my situation. He could have serious injuries. I had to call an ambulance or something.

I rummaged around in my coat pocket for my mobile phone and flipped it open. The little screen lit up only to show I had no signal. Damn mountainside, you could never get a signal out here! I still quickly punched in the emergency number, I was sure some networks still allowed you to ring the emergency services even if you didn't have a good signal. Just as I was about to push the call button a series of coughs spluttered from the man lying before me. I snapped the phone shut and leant over him again.

"Hey! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked slowly in a clear voice so he could understand me. His face shifted into a frown. "Estas bien? Estas herdido? (_Are you alright? Are you hurt?_)" I quizzed him in Spanish. He didn't really look Spanish but maybe he couldn't speak English (there were quite a few German's and Scandinavians living in these parts). He didn't answer, instead his eyes slowly wandered over my face as if it were the first time he had seen a human being before. "Can you tell me your name? Tu nombre? (_Your name?_)" I pestered.

"Basch fon Ronsenburg." He croaked, his voice hoarse.

It was indefinitely an odd name, again maybe it was Scandinavian or something yet that didn't matter at the moment, what mattered was checking if he was okay.

"Okay Basch, can you understand me?"

"I can." Despite this the frown was still fixed on his features.

"Are you injured?"

"I do not believe so."

"Okay, can you try and sit up? Slowly." I gently grasped his shoulder to steady him as he carefully pulled himself up into a sitting position. I huffed a sigh of relief. "You need to go to a hospital so they can check you over."

"I see no need." He said, his hand rubbed at his eyes as if suddenly weary. He soon lowered it and looked around at the blackened surroundings with quick glances. It was as if he was unsure of where he was.

"I just hit you with my car! I really think we need to get you to a hospital."

"I am quite alright, I assure you." He rose to his feet.

I quickly followed his motions and also lurched up from the mud. Christ, he was tall.

"Fine, at least let me give you a ride home." I said beginning to walk to my car. The engine was still running.

I decided it was best I kept this guy sweet I didn't want a law suit biting me in the butt a couple of weeks down the line.

"Home?"

Despite the torrent he remained rooted to the spot. I stopped and turned to face him. He had that look of puzzlement marking his face again.

"Yeah, where do you live?"

"I...I do not believe I am of this place." He said hesitantly as if aware of just how insane it sounded.

"Okay, I really think you need to go to the hospital." I insisted.

"As kind spirited as your concern is I must decline."

"Well I can't just leave you here." He had just been run over, no wonder he was dazed and confused. After a brief moment I drew up the only idea that I thought fit my current situation. "Look, why don't you come back with me and we can figure out what to do from there."

Normally I would never even dream of inviting a complete stranger back to my house, especially one as odd as him but it was obvious he had had a bit of a bump on the head when I had flattened him with my car. Leaving him alone in the middle of the road wasn't really an option.

"You nay need to-"

"I insist, please?" I gestured to the still humming car.

"Very well." He said after a long moment of deliberation.

I ducked into the driver's seat and leaned across to unlock the passenger door. The car was so ancient it didn't have the modern day necesities such as central locking or power steering. I opened the door for him. He awkwardly got into the car and closed the door, his eyes slowly taking in the worn out interior.

"It get's me from A to B." I said, making light of its sorry state.

He nodded though from the look on his face it was obvious he didn't quite follow. I quickly turned off the stereo. It had already caused me enough bother tonight. The door groaned as I slammed it shut. I pulled my seat belt across my torso and clicked it shut. He watched me, seemingly mystified by my movements.

"Seat belt." I tugged at my own belt to indicate he should do the same. "One accident is probably enough for tonight."

He complied. I kicked the car into motion and we set off down the dirt track at a more than safe slow pace.

* * *

I parked my car on the outskirts of the village. Village was probably an exaggeration, it was more of a hamlet, a picturesque little jumble of white houses and cobbled streets. There was no room in the narrow streets to park your car and so the small number of people who lived here merely left their cars on its fringes. I walked along the streets, my head down against the elements. I was already drenched and didn't fancy lingering in the rain any longer than needed yet I was aware he probably wouldn't be able to walk that well. The guy, Basch, managed good enough to keep the steady pace and silently followed. We hadn't spoken much on the journey home. I guess it was a bit hard to strike up a conversation with someone you had nearly killed.

It didn't take long to reach my house. It was similar to the rest of the little cottages with white washed walls, a dark stained wooden door and little windows with wooden shutters. I dug around in my handbag for my house keys, taking shelter from the sky's onslaught in the doorway. Basch waited patiently at my side. After much scrabbling around I pulled my keys from my bag and unlocked the door. I stepped in and flicked on the light switch. Basch remained stood on the porch.

"Come in." I opened the door slightly wider so he could enter.

He did so. He had to duck to pass through it. Due to the houses in village all being very old the doorways and ceilings were quite low. Fortunately, he managed to return to his full height when he had entered. In the light of the hallway I finally was able to get a good look at him. The first thing that caught my eye was a large, nasty gash on his brow.

"Oh my god, did I do that?" I asked anxiously gesturing to his forehead.

"No. I have had it for quite some time now." He reassured me.

Relieved, I allowed my eyes to quickly scan the rest of him. His hair was wet making it somewhat harder to judge just what shade it was though I guessed a sandy blond. He seemed to be of earlier to mid thirties and despite the scar marring his face he was quite handsome. The clothes he wore were just plain weird- a collection of stained leather and cotton, scraps of armour and not to mention an axe that hung from his belt. Who was this guy, a Viking? Perhaps he was one of those renaissance re-enactment enthusiasts. I suddenly noticed something marking his arm. It was a weeping gash that stretched from his forearm well up past his elbow. The skin had been rubbed away only to reveal a mess of blood, tissue and dirt.

"I definitely did that though." His eyes followed mine and glanced down at his injured arm. How the hell was he not aware at great chunk of his arm was missing a good few layers of skin? I had had my fair share of motorbike injuries and knew very well that 'road rash' stung like a bitch. "You should really go to the hospital."

"There is no need. The only thing I require is a potion."

My face snapped into a quizzical glare.

"A potion? Who the hell do you think I am, Harry Potter?" I snorted, my hands to my hips.

"I beg pardon?"

My eyes flickered over his expression, which yet again was baffled. He genuinely had no clue.

"Er.. Never mind." I said my eyes once again regarding his wound. I wondered what on earth he meant by 'potion' was it a new street word for weed? Or maybe a mistranslation from whatever language he spoke. Maybe he meant 'pill', like a pain-killer or even first aid. "I don't have a 'potion' but I can clean that up for you though seems as you're so adamant about not going to the hospital."

He looked at his skinned arm before nodding.

I led him through the cramped hallway to the living room. The light flickered on to reveal a certain someone sat where he shouldn't be.

"Kaiser, get off the sofa!" I scolded.

He lazily lifted his head from resting on his paws. Basch followed me and stood at my side. The black dog's ears snapped forward and a low growl curled from his throat. Kaiser quickly abandoned the comfort of the sofa and jumped down, swiftly shifting into a threatening stance-his legs wide, head low, teeth bared. Low, deep barks spewed from him in vicious yelps. I was so shocked by his uncharacteristic display that it took me a few long moments to react.

"Hey! Quit it!"

I noticed Basch had a hand resting on the hilt of his axe. I quickly stepped in front of the barking dog and grasped his leather collar. I yanked him back and away from our strange guest and into the kitchen, which took a surprising amount of effort. He was a big dog but never before had he bristled with such menace nor did his muscles stiffen into a solid mass like this before. After securing him in the kitchen he seemed to calm somewhat. I squatted in front of him like one would do when comforting a child.

"What's gotten into you?" I pondered continue to feed his growing peacefulness by rubbing his thick ears.

It was never like him to react this way to someone new. This was the dog that wanted nothing more to play fetch for endless hours and allowed the local children to roughly pet him. When he had eventually reverted back to his usual self he sat back on his haunches, his tongue lapping at my hand. "Tonto. (_Silly_) You can stay in here for now." I rose and left the kitchen, closing the door behind me. I paced into the living room once more to find my guest where I had left him.

"Sorry about him, he's normally so friendly." I apologised. He merely nodded. "Take a seat. I'll go get the first aid kit." I gestured to the battered leather sofa.

He complied and continued to eye the small room with a muted sense of wonder. I moved out of the living room and into the bathroom. I ducked and rummaged around in the dark wooden cabinet under the sink until I located the little green first-aid kit. As I turned to leave I noticed my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I looked horrendous. My wet hair was plastered to my skull and my carefully applied eye make-up had been smudge by the rain making me look like a raccoon. I quickly wiped under my eyes attempting to rid the skin of the wayward kohl and mascara. When I had succeeded I took another glance. Though it wasn't a vast improvement I looked less like something out of a horror film and more like my usual self.

I sighed and returned to the living room. I plonked down the first aid-kit on the antique styled coffee table that sat in front of the sofa. I regarded the wound on Basch's arm again and decided to fetch a few things from the kitchen. I placed a large bowl of warm water, two glasses and a half-empty bottle of vodka next to the kit.

"It's not a 'potion' but I think you might need some of this to take the edge off." I said pouring the spirit into a glass and offering him it. He accepted it with thanks before bringing the rim of the glass to his nose to smell it. I ignored his strange behaviour and sloshed a generous glug of the booze in my own glass. I took a gulp of it, wincing slightly as it kicked the back of my throat. "Okay, let's patch you up."

I opened the first-aid kit and took out the required items for the task ahead. Once content I had everything for the procedure I took a sterile cloth and dipped it into the water before motioning for Basch to give me his arm. He obliged and I began to try and rid the gash of dirt. He didn't even flinch as the cloth met his raw skin though I noticed his jaw tighten somewhat. After much rubbing the mud and grit that was embedding in his arm was wiped away from his wound. It was a good job I wasn't that squeamish, then again I had patched myself up the last time I had come off my moped. I picked up the bottle of iodine and a fresh cloth before applying it to the newly scrubbed red skin. Afterwards I liberally plaster on some antiseptic cream that was ideal for burns and scrapes before covering the area with two large gauze patches and tightly wrapping it up in a bandage.

"There. That will have to do for tonight. You really should go to the medical centre tomorrow and get it looked at though." I said taping down the stray end of the bandage with some surgical tape. He had been quietly watching me while I worked. His eyes flitted away when I looked up from his arm to his face. "What were you doing wondering about in the campo while it's chucking it down?" I quickly remembered my discarded glass and took a swig form it again. I suddenly realised how much my hands were shaking.

"I do not understand." He said after a long moment in which his features were yet again set in that bewildered gaze.

I suddenly realised my horrible mash-up of Spanish and English slang must have confused him.

"Oh! 'Campo' means countryside and 'chucking it down' means raining really hard. What were you doing out in the countryside when it was raining so badly?" I posed the question again in terms that he would understand.

It was strange he didn't seem to have a heavy accent. Then again, it was quite hard to tell due to his voice being so gruff.

"I am lost." He admitted.

"Where are you from?"

My curiosity had peaked and I just couldn't seem to place his accent. The only thing that was evident about him was that he was definitely a foreigner. His eyes snapped up from studying the contents of his glass (which remain untouched) to meet my inquisitive stare.

"I am from a land called Ivalice." He said after another long pause.

"I've never heard of Ivalice." I rolled the new word slowly over my tongue whilst trying to place it. Perhaps it was somewhere in Eastern Europe. "Where is it?"

"It is not of this place."

Gee, talk about vague. I decided to drop the topic seems as he didn't seem keen on discussing it in detail.

"Okay, then what's with the get-up?" Another frown. I motion at his clothes "You're clothes and why do you have an axe?"

He quickly looked down at his ensemble before regarding my own. My clothes were very different from his. I was decked in black skinny jeans, a white blouse with a black Peter Pan collar and high heeled black shoe-boots. I had to dress in the up-to-date fashion trends due to working at the most popular clothing boutique in town.

"I bear an axe because I am a knight. I use it to defend my sovereign."

My hunch had been right he was one of those reissuance enthusiasts. There must have been a gathering at someone's villa. I suppose that would explain why he was out in the countryside... kind of.

"Oh. So who's your sovereign? King Arthur?" I said with a teasing smile, taking another sip of vodka.

"Princess Ashelia B'Nargin of Dalmasca." He stated seriously.

Someone was certainly committing to his role.

"Ashelia B'Nargin. That's quite a name. What's yours again, Basch...?"

"fon Ronsenburg." He finished. "May I know yours?"

It suddenly occurred to me I hadn't given him my name.

"Edie Navidson." I held out my hand. He shook it.


End file.
